Inning 9: Final Wrap-Up

There seems to be a growing distanceemotional and financialbetween
sports fans and their "heroes." Fans, especially young
fans and families, are finding new outlets for their leisure time
and entertainment dollars.

Yet, when all is said and done, people keep going to ballgames
or following the action on TV, because the games still reward them
by giving them what they seek.

A. Minor League Prices,
Major League Fun

You are standing in the Dairy Queen parking lot,
wearing a Red Sox cap and savoring a chili dog, when a voice from
behind says, "Wrong hat."

You turn around to see a middle-aged dad standing
next to a middle-aged mom, and for a second you think you're
seeing double because they're wearing identical outfits: black
walking shoes, white tube sox, plaid shorts, and a short-sleeve
shirt, all topped by what looks like a Red Sox cap, except that
there's a P where the B ought to go.

Fishing for autographs at McCoy Stadium
in Pawtucket, Rhode Island.Photo courtesy of the Pawtucket Red Sox.

"You need to get a hat like ours,"
they chime in unison, "a Pawtucket Red Sox hat." Then
they start telling you all about the "PawSox"the
triple-A minor league affiliate of the Boston Red Sox. And they
are so enthusiastic that you can't help but listen. After a
while they turn to leave, but not before they make you promise to
take your kids to a PawSox game.

A month later, your whole family sets out on the
45-minute drive from Boston to McCoy Stadium, where the August evening
will deliver one pleasant surprise after another. The parking is
free, the traffic is manageable, the crowd is civilized, and your
$5 box seats are directly behind first base. (Is this heaven? No,
it's Pawtucket, Rhode Island.)

The game turns out to be an absolute gem. Pawtucket
wins in the bottom of the ninth on a grand slam by third baseman
Louis Aguayo. Everyone goes home smiling.

Total cost for the whole memorable evening: About
the same as going to a movie.

The Boom in Minor League Sports

After some very lean seasons during the 1950s,
60s, and 70s minor league baseball is back! Fans have
rediscovered that they can have fun at the ballpark without emptying
their wallets.It is a classic example of substitution:
When major league ticket prices soared, fansespecially families
and middle-income fansbegan to find their way back to minor
league ballparks where they could buy affordable tickets to watch
the "stars of tomorrow" play their hearts out.

How much more affordable are the minors?
Just look at the price difference between the Boston Red Sox and
the Pawtucket Red Sox. A grandstand seat for a 2012 home game at
Fenway Park cost over $50. Forty miles to the south, at Pawtucket's
McCoy Stadium, the best seats in the house were selling for $11.00
apiece. Do the math: A family of four would pay a total of $44 for
great seats at McCoy (and the parking is free) versus $200 plus at Fenway
(where parking costs are sky-high and anything but hassle-free).
Granted, there are no big-name stars in Pawtucket, nor are your
friends likely to be impressed when you tell them you went to a
PawSox game. But are superstars and snob appeal worth five times
the cost? A lot of fans are beginning to wonder. [Go to Top]

The Hometown Connection

The charms of minor league games are not limited
to low-cost tickets. People are also drawn to the relaxed, fan-friendly
atmosphere and the overall absence of "major league attitude."

The minors seem to make it easier for fans to
reconnect with the games and the players. To understand why, just
show up early for a PawSox game and watch the young fans who "fish"
for autographs by lowering plastic milk jugs from the stands. The
scene will tell you almost all you need to know.

Or make your way to the Massachusetts seashore,
where the Cape Cod League has maintained a hometown connection between
fans and players for more than 100 seasons. Every summer, its teams
host some of the country's most talented college ballplayers.
A list of former Cape Cod Leaguers reads like a ballot for the Major
League All-Star GameMo Vaughn, Frank Thomas, Chuck Knoblauch,
Nomar Garciaparra, and Carlton Fisk, just to name a few.

But the quality of play isn't the only attraction.
Fans in Massachusetts seaside resorts like Hyannis, Falmouth, and
Orleans feel a genuine affinity for the ballplayers who represent
their towns. The players live with local families and work summer
jobs at local businesses. Townspeopleboth year-round residents
and summer visitorsthink of the Cape Cod League players as
"our kids."

It's exactly the way everyone thinks sports
used to bemaybe even better. Admission is free, the bats are
wood, and the kids play hard. Add to that the delicious cool of
a July evening on Cape Cod plus the company of people you enjoy,
and you come very close to earthly paradise.

Sure, the games may not mean as much as
they do in the big leagues. But when you get right down to it, none
of the gamesnot even the "big ones"mean anything
more than what the fans bring to them.[Go to Top]

B.Two Entrepreneurs
Give Fans a Fun Product at an Affordable Price

Entrepreneurs are a diverse bunch. Some are innovative
and unconventional, others are "pluggers." The one thing
they have in common is that they organize a business and assume
the risk of running it.

By anyone's definition, Miles Wolff and Mike
Veeck are entrepreneurs. They are also largely responsible for the
revival of minor league sports.

Miles Wolff and the "Other Bulls"

"We got the sun out now, we got
the fresh air, we got the teams behind us . . . so let's play
two."Ernie Banks, a.k.a. "Mr. Cub",
Hall of Fame Shortstop

Miles Wolff began working in baseball as a $600-a-month
jack-of-all-trades/general manager in the Atlanta Braves farm system.
When he paid $2,417 for the Durham (North Carolina) Bulls franchise
in 1978, his goal was to keep the team alive so he could continue
to have a job in baseball. He borrowed money from family and friends,
convinced local officials to make $25,000 worth of badly needed
repairs on homey (decrepit) old Durham Athletic Park, and used his
own good baseball sense to make the Bulls into a thriving local
success.

Saint the Pig.Photo courtesy of Saint Paul Saints and Michael Martin.

Then, in 1987, Hollywood turned Wolff's team
into a national sensation when a film called Bull Durhamstarring
Kevin Costner, Tim Robbins, and Susan Sarandonrevealed the
quirky pleasures of minor league baseball to audiences in packed
moviehouses across the country. Sales of Durham Bulls merchandise
skyrocketed, and so did the value of Wolff's investment.

From a financial standpoint, the Durham Bulls
were a runaway success, but Miles Wolff was beginning to wonder
if he hadn't lost something along the way. The politics of
trying to build a new stadium and the increasing economic tensions
with Major League Baseball were taking a toll on him.

So in 1990, Wolff sold the Durham Bulls for an
estimated $4 million. Then he set out to rediscover the sense of
enjoyment and satisfaction that had drawn him to minor league baseball
in the first place. He did it by taking the lead in organizing the
Northern League, an independent baseball league in the upper Midwest.

At one time, all minor leagues had been
independent. They were just smalleror "minor"versions
of the major leagues. But during the 1920 and 1930s, Branch Rickey,
general manager of the St. Louis Cardinals (and later the Brooklyn
Dodgers), convinced the Cardinals' ownership to buy minor league
teams and use them to develop players for the big league club. The
system caught on, and independent teams, which received no major
league financial subsidies, faded from the scene.[Go to Top]

The Northern League's first few seasons during
the early 1990s were touch-and-go, in part because its teams received
no financial subsidies from the majors. Some of its franchises soon
folded, but the league survived, and a few of its teams have enjoyed
solid success.

The most notable Northern League success story
has been the St. Paul Saints franchise, owned by Mike Veeck, son
of the late Bill Veeck (see Inning
1). Mike had inherited his father's love
of baseball and his flair for making the game fun. Maybe his Saints
lacked the drawing power of big league superstars, but Mike Veeck
knew how to attract fans and show them a good time. Crowds delighted
in the sight of Saint the Pig delivering baseballs to the home plate
umpire.

And that was only the beginning. Stefan Fatsis,
author of Wild and Outside, a marvelous book about the founding
of the Northern League, describes Mike Veeck's formula for
success:

The goofier the gimmick the better. Hence Saint
the Pig. Hence Irish Night, in which the Saints wore green caps
and ran around green bases. Kitchen Appliance Night. Man on the
Moon Night. Mary Tyler Moore Appreciation Night. They brought
fans to the ballpark and gave the ballpark over to fans. The experience
in St. Paul was participatory, from the grandstand barbera
gimmick begun by Bill Veeck in Comiskey Parkto the barrage
of witty commentary from Al Frechtman and his wittingly hip musical
tastes. (The team's unlikely theme song was the Sammy Davis,
Jr. rendition of Isaac Hayes's achingly dated theme from
the movie Shaft.)

Veeck helped to create an atmosphere that
teetered on the edge of anarchybut was always purposeful.
The scene could appear spontaneous, but in fact much was carefully
organized, on time schedules prepared before each game.

C. Some Things
Never Change

Pro sports has been remarkably resilient. Fans
have come back after every strike or lockout.

"I think about the cosmic snowball
theory. A few million years from now the sun will burn out
and lose its gravitational pull. The earth will turn into
a giant snowball and be hurled through space. When that happens
it won't matter if I get this guy out." Bill Lee, Pitcher and Philosopher,
on dealing with pressure

But each dispute has taken its toll. You can hear
it in the voices of fans who call the all-sports talk radio stations.
Some are angry; others are disenchanted. Many are bewildered.

There seems to be a growing distanceemotional
and financialbetween fans and their "heroes." Not
so long ago, sports stars were a lot like the rest of us. They worked
during the off-season to make ends meet, and they lived in the same
neighborhoods as their fans. Sometimes they even played stickball
or shot baskets with the neighborhood kids. But those days are gone
forever.

Tastes have changed, too. Fans, especially young
fans, have been finding new outlets for their leisure time and entertainment
dollars: the Internet, popular music, and the movies. In fact, the
day might be coming when baseball, basketball, football, and hockey
won't even dominate the sports sector of the entertainment
market. Fans are increasingly attracted to pro wrestling, NASCAR,
soccer, and the X-Gamesin large part because the stars of
those sports seem so much more accessible.

Ted Williams taking the Navy oath in 1942,
when there didn't seem to be as much distance between sports
stars and the rest of us.Photo courtesy of The Boston Public Library, Print Division.

Yet, despite all the changes, people keep going
to games or following the action on TV because, when all is said
and done, sports reward fans by giving them what they seek. Those
who look for greed, selfishness, and meanness will find all three
in abundance. But if fans are able to look past all that, they might
also experience something they'll talk about till the end of
their days.

"It's what you learn after
you know it all that counts."Earl Weaver, former manager, Baltimore
Orioles

And even if nothing memorable happens on the field,
on the court, or on the ice, our games offer us the chance to pass
a few pleasant hours in the company of people we enjoy.

Sharing a laugh at Fenway, 1940s.
Even if nothing memorable happens on the field, our games
give us a chance to gather in a public place and celebrate
the things we still have in common.Photo by Leslie Jones, courtesy of The Boston Public Library,
Print Division.